


The Boss 5

by LanceTheFuckerTucker



Series: The Boss [5]
Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 70's Bucky AU, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Bucky's schemin', F/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs, The Avengers are mob lords and it is glorious, Tony's schemin'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:02:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9574958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanceTheFuckerTucker/pseuds/LanceTheFuckerTucker
Summary: It's finally clear who the snitch at Legs is and Bucky Barnes is now well within Tony Stark's reach. But Bucky made a vow: he must protect you at all costs.





	

It was 3AM. Bucky stood behind his desk, surrounded by Stevie, Barton and Sam. His expression was serious. And rightly so. 

“Is the girl gonna be ok?” Bucky asked Barton, folding his arms.

“Yeah, I sent Peggy to the hospital with her. Doctors say she was drugged,” Barton explained.

Sam eyed everyone in the room, “It sounds like a Stark job.”

Stevie nodded, sipping at his cognac. “So it was obviously the double agent, right Buck?”

Bucky nodded, furrowing his brow, “That goes without saying.” He began to pace. “I should probably tell you all who the snitch is now, so you know. So you’re prepared for the shitstorm that’s coming at us after this.”

Suddenly the pensive atmosphere in the room was elevated. The three men shifted in their seats and their faces looked more alert.

Bucky’s voice was tinged with disappointment: “It’s Nat.”

* * *

 

“Honey, what’s up?” Angie asked, a look of concern on her face. 

All you wanted to do was to curl up into a ball and cry. It was inexplicable and kind of pathetic, especially considering you had only known Bucky Barnes a matter of days. You knew nothing about him. And he knew nothing about you. But you truly believed he respected you, maybe even liked you. He clearly didn’t. And you sure as hell couldn’t confide in Angie about the mess you had found yourself in at the hands of your boss, the former hitman.

Nonetheless, Angie knew something was wrong. You were a complete mess, with jet black trails down your cheeks and reddened eyes. 

You were also whimpering like a wounded dog. “I’m fine, Angie, I promise, it’s just-“

Shock washed over Angie’s face as she reached out to dry your tears, “they didn’t try anything at the club, did they?”

“Oh god, no!” you said, swatting her hand away from your cheeks, “I just don’t want to talk about it right now.”

This was completely unlike you. You could never keep anything to yourself, but Angie went along with it. She was clearly annoyed though. You had gone from sharing everything with her, to telling her nothing in a matter of days.

You went to bed in silence. You didn’t see Angie the following morning. She was gone before you rose.

* * *

If there was one thing you hated more than anything, it was confrontation. However, between Angie and the fiasco at Legs, it was becoming a common theme in your life and it didn’t sit well with you.

Knowing that words had to be exchanged, you returned to Legs the next day. Wandering reluctantly down the familiar alleyway, this was the most apprehensive you had ever felt making this particular journey. More than the day you landed this cursed job; more than before your first shift when you witnessed your first of many murders.

But you needed answers, desperately. After all, what you saw last night came crashing back to you in waves throughout the night. It was burned beneath your eyelids and cast away any hope of rest. You were tired and feeling utterly betrayed. 

The club was empty and eerily silent. There were no dancers or punters; you had arrived before even Luis was there. But Nat was there. You heard her smacking obnoxiously on her gum before you even saw her. You rounded the bar towards the dark corridor and there she was, slinking up to you.

“Hey sweetie!” she cooed, waggling her slender fingers in a wave in your direction. 

You could barely keep it together. The rage and the hurt waged war in your stomach, churning away the very sight of her. Shooting her a casual nod, you quickened your pace to pass her. Luckily she didn’t press for a conversation. You arrived at Bucky’s office and knocked thrice in quick succession. Then you waited for him to call you in. The same as ever.

But today was different. Today, Bucky opened the door. 

Poking his face out to you, he wore a look of confusion. You were startled by how grey he looked. Like he was carrying the weight of the world on those broad, paisley clad shoulders of his. But he still looked far too pleased to see you. The rage won the war a raced to your cheeks, flushing them scarlet. “Hey kiddo! What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be in again until Wednesday,” he said.

“Yeah, well we need to talk about last night,” you said curtly.

Bucky seemed to know exactly what you were talking about. He opened the door further, allowing you to duck under his arm and into the office, only slightly brushing past him. Reaching the middle of the room, you turned on your heel. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to speak.

“So you and Nat, huh?” you shrugged, thrusting your hands into your pockets. 

“I don’t know whether to laugh or be insulted,” Bucky said, sweeping past you, over to his record collection. 

You were stunned. Completely and utterly floored. You hoped Bucky valued you more than this. What made the situation worse was that your mind was racing itself so quickly to keep you from crying and to quell the anger, that you couldn’t even find the words to respond to him. He just thumbed through the neat row of LPs in his cabinet, completely disregarding the state you were in. Because of him. 

He settled on Leonard Cohen. “This song reminds me of you, kiddo,” he mused warmly, dropping the needle on ‘Famous Blue Raincoat’ with a pop. Then he turned to you. You were unimpressed.

He sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back against the mahogany cabinet, “You’re not the only one who has to keep people on their side.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you blurted, shaking your head.

“It means,” he began, walking over to you, “that I didn’t fuck her because I like her.” He gently ran his fingers over your cheek. “I did it because I had to make her think I trust her.”

You kept quiet as he stared into your soul. He wasn’t off the hook just yet.

"You're my girl," he drawled quietly.

You elected to ignore the words you had be longing to hear, stilling yourself. You had to test the water and move this conversation on. You were sure Nat was the snitch at the club, even if Bucky had never told you so. “You know she tried to drug me last night? I might be off the mark here, but I think she’s up to something.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. You knew you had just handed over an important piece of information as he backed himself away from you.

“Bucky?” you asked.

“Nat said she found one of the dancers passed out in a dumpster last night. Pretended to be all shaken up about it. Doctors say she - the dancer - was drugged. I know for a fact Nat did it,” Bucky explained.

You nodded, the pill in your pocket had gone missing and Nat saw you put it in there. “Nat slipped me one of those pills last night. I didn't take it, but it went missing from my pocket. It was meant for me," you said, piecing it all together.

Bucky's features dropped in realisation. This was Nat's second attempt at putting you in harm's way. Bucky couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt over this. After all, you didn't ask to be put in this position, he had coerced you into being complicit in all of this. And he still hadn't offered you the real reason behind Stark's crusade against him. That was between Bucky and Stark himself.

"So Stark’s using me as bait to get to you?” you concluded.

Bucky nodded, “That’s a possibility, but I said I’d protect you, didn’t I?” He moved closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“So what do we do now?” you asked, instinctively burrowing your head into his chest and wrapping your arms around his torso. He was always so warm and his heart always fluttered. For someone with so many terrible secrets - someone who had done so many terrible things - he was one of the most comforting things in your life at that moment. You almost felt ashamed for doubting him.

“I’m gonna get the guys together and we’re gonna come up with a plan to lure Stark. You need to be careful until then,” he said, stroking your hair and swaying gently to the music. “Promise me you’ll carry on as normal, kiddo? Don’t give Nat any indication that you know just yet.”

You pulled away to look him in the eye. “Promise.”

* * *

 

On Wednesday afternoon, you came back to the club, uneasy in the knowledge that Nat was plotting god knows what against you. Bucky had called a meeting of all of Legs’ staff. The club was closed for half the day to accommodate this.

You crammed yourself into his office alongside your fellow dancers, as well as Stevie, Barton, Sam, Nat and even Luis.

Bucky was alone on his side of the desk, surveying each face in the room, accounting for each member of the family. His expression was stoic as he did so.

There was an air of apprehension hanging over the room as everyone silently contemplated what the boss wanted. Only a handful of people were privy to what was going on. You weren’t one of them.

When Bucky was sure that everyone was present, he cleared his throat, cutting through the silence. 

“I suppose you’re all wondering why I’ve summoned you all to my office. It’s not like most of you see me on a daily basis, right?” Bucky began, attempting to joke with his audience. 

A cordial laugh buzzed through the room.

“I have some good news and some bad news,” he continued. Licking his lips. Finding the words.

Your stomach churned.

“The good news is that I plan to open up another club in Los Angeles!” Bucky beamed, clasping his hands together. 

It drew a couple of excited cheers from the gathering.

“The bad news, though, is that I’m gonna be gone for a week from this coming Monday to look at venues and hire staff. But I'm leaving my right hand man, Steviem in charge, so no slacking off. I want it all by the book,” he laughed. 

Stevie winked and cocked a couple of fingers in the direction of his best friend.

"Alright, get to work!" Bucky barked, dismissing the crowd.

Luis, who was standing beside you nudged you with his elbow, grinning like a fool: “that doesn’t sound so bad to me! Free screwdrivers all round!”

A chill seared through you. Why was he leaving you here when Stark was clearly planning something against you? And, more importantly, against the club?

You hung back until the staff of Legs filed out of the room, chattering away amongst themselves. Bucky was still behind his desk. His back was turned to the door, and he was hunched over his liquor cabinet, pouring himself a drink.

When the last of the rabble left, you slammed the door closed and mockingly cleared your throat.

Bucky ceased what he was doing and straightened himself up. He looked at the ceiling. 

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, your annoyance and bewilderment evident.

Bucky was quiet when he spoke: “I said I’d protect you.”

“By leaving me here when that madman, Stark, wants to fucking kidnap me to get to you? When little miss Black Widow’s trying to slip me mickies? You’re just gonna leave?” you pressed.

Bucky turned to you. He was unconcerned. In fact, he was smiling. “You got a passport, kiddo?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, thanks for reading! This one was really difficult to write because I just feel like I had written myself into a corner with different plot points I had dropped into previous parts. I couldn't fathom a way to untangle them and continue them in an interesting way. But I hope this is a small baby step in the right direction. Feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks again!


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